


A Little Bit More

by EndlessMoonrise



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-22 05:27:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13757247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EndlessMoonrise/pseuds/EndlessMoonrise
Summary: Emma Swan doesn't have a great track record when it comes to relationships. And now, out of prison and with a baby in her arms, the opposite sex is really the last thing on her mind. At least until Killian Jones. He becomes her most loyal and trusted friend, but Emma's unsure if friendship will be enough for him. Or for her. Will she be brave enough to risk her heart again? And how will things change when they find themselves amongst the meddling folks of Storybooke, Maine?





	A Little Bit More

**Author's Note:**

> I’d like to say a big thank you to everyone who was a part of CSLB, you were all amazing and so so supportive, it was so great to be a part of this experience with you all! I’d also like to say an extra thank you to givemelovelikecs on Tumblr for being my beta, for keeping me right and cheering me on. And also to gingerchangeling for not only bringing this story to life with her artwork (go and check it out!!) but for also being the third pair of eyes this story needed to keep from totally embarrassing me.
> 
> The title of this story was actually inspired by a song of the same name by Griffin Peterson, so if you're interested, go and give it a listen. It was written for my favourite book 'Maybe Someday' by Colleen Hoover, and if you've never read it, I honestly can't recommend her books enough!

**Winter 2002**

In retrospect, the day she met Killian Jones had to have been the unluckiest day of Emma Swan’s life to date. Not in major ways, mind you, but in regards to smaller misfortunes, December 6 th was definitely up there. It was the day Emma decided that despite the common belief, bad things did not in fact happen in threes, they came by the freaking bus load, one after the other after the other in the crappiest game of dominos ever.

When they’d met she’d been the epitome of a frazzled teenage mom, her hair had been pulled up in a messy bun that wasn’t so much a deliberate messy bun as it was a greasy matt that hadn’t been brushed in two days… maybe three days? She’d been dressed in ill fitting thrift store clothes and spit up and had smelled rather unpleasantly of sour milk. Henry had been screaming, her breast pads had been leaking… Basically she was just in desperate need of a shower and a lie down.

All in all, it wasn’t the best first impression she could have given.

Sure, the two of them (three if you included her three month old son) had been trapped in a broken down elevator, so she hadn’t really had much choice in the matter, but if she had, she would have made sure she’d showered beforehand.

Most guys would have turned the other way, turned their nose up at her, maybe even laughed at her behind her back, but Killian had done none of those things. He’d taken the whole single mom meltdown in his stride, and been nothing but supportive while she wavered between wanting to curl up and hide, or slam her walls up a mile high and bite back that she didn’t need anyone’s help.

Not many people knew how to handle her. Hell, sometimes she didn’t even know how to handle herself, but even from that first day, it was as if Killian Jones had found some sort of Emma Swan manual in the restricted section of the library. He knew when to push her and when she needed space, and later he knew the difference between PMS and when she was just plain pissed. He infuriated her and irritated her, and everything in between… but he also slowly became one of her best friends, one of her only friends.

He lived on the floor above hers but as time went on he slowly started to spend more and more time in her apartment, in her life in general. First it was to help her tidy her place ready for a visit from a social worker that would put Professor Snape to shame, the next time he brought pizza.

After that it was a movie night here, a duvet day there, he babysat Henry when she had to work and became more and more of a permanent fixture in her life, and after a while, Emma found she wasn’t sure she could imagine life without him.

It wasn't a purposeful thing, she didn’t plan for it to happen. If she had seen it happening, she probably would have ran in the opposite direction, but he’d snuck up on her, like a stray puppy, like Sandy in the musical Annie. He’d followed the orphan home and now she’d grown too fond of him to shake him off.

Killian wasn’t a puppy, it didn’t escape her notice that he was in fact a rather attractive, British  _ guy.  _ Tall, dark, handsome, a stubbled jaw and smoldering blue eyes, He was the whole deal… but that was beside the point. She couldn’t go there, she didn’t have the time, the energy, or the heart to do another relationship, and potentially another heartbreak.

Things with Henry’s father… with Neal, had left her so broken, she wasn’t sure she could ever put the pieces back together. He’d taken her trust, her love, her virginity… and she wasn’t sure if it ever even meant anything to him, she never would… He’d abandoned her, he’d left her pregnant, not that he’d known that, and left her to get arrested and go to prison… She wasn’t sure, when (or even if) she would ever completely get over it.

However, despite her doubts, over the months she’d known Killian, she’d grown to trust him, she trusted him with her son, with the location of her emergency $10, with the spare key to her apartment, but what she didn’t… what she  _ couldn’t _ trust him with, was her heart

  
  


**Summer 2003**

“Princess Bride? Again?” He sighed, reaching over her for the tv remote and snatching it of the arm of the couch. “I swear I’ve seen this movie more times since we met than I did in my entire twenty one years of life before that.”

“Killian!” She protested playfully clambering up to try and take it from him. “It’s my night to pick the movie!”

“Then pick a different one!” He held it out of reach of her grabby hands. “It’s hardly ‘picking’ if it’s the same one every other week.” Emma bit her lip, laughing quietly as she made a grab for it, but he was too quick, lifting a leg to block her advance with his shin. “You know, for someone who hates love stories you sure have a weird choice of favourite movie.”

“...Yeah.” She said hesitantly. “Well, love stories are kinda ruined for me so…” It surprised her sometimes, the little things he knew about her, like her favourite colour, yellow. Or that she liked cinnamon on her cocoa… Her fondness for bear claws, or that she prefered onion rings over fries with her grilled cheese… Damn she had to stop letting him feed her.

He found her taste in movies left a lot to be desired. She could tell he was a romantic at heart, where he would smile when the couple finally got together, she usually turned her nose up at it. She just couldn’t bring herself to believe in the sappy stories with their perfect Prince Charmings and true love and happily ever afters. As far as she was concerned, it didn’t exist, none of it. People weren’t perfect, they were flawed and scarred, some were bad by circumstance and some people were just dicks. That’s just the way life was.

“Hey.” He said softly, giving her a reassuring smile, that she couldn’t help but feel right down to her bones. “Don’t let one arse get you down love… He obviously didn’t realise what he had while he had it.” She smiled shyly at him, the corner of her lip tilting upward. “Other than your questionable taste in films, you’re actually pretty decent.”

She laughed and kicked at him playfully, curling her toes up when he tried to steal her sock. “Just play the damn movie.”

He smirked at her and pointed the remote at the TV. “As you wish.”

 

…

 

Killian was great with Henry, even when they’d first met, trapped in that elevator, he’d been a natural. He had a one and a half year old (‘Almost two, Swan!’) nephew that he adored, he had pictures of him in his wallet, and no doubt his drawings stuck to his fridge. (After he’d brought them over for her to see of course.) 

Emma had no problem with leaving Henry with him while she worked or napped or showered. God, the first time she’d done that she hadn’t realised just how great a feeling it was to shower without Henry’s bouncer propped up in the corner, to be able to wash her hair without the constant fear of him starting to fuss before she had the chance to rinse it.

Yeah, Killian was good with Henry, and Henry liked him. Sometimes Emma was convinced the kid liked him more than her, but Killian assured her that was the sleep deprivation talking.

He became her right hand man when it came to single motherhood, the voice of reason on the days when she questioned her decision to keep Henry at all, and she did question it.

This hadn’t been the plan. The plan had been for social services to find him a nice little family who would love him and wouldn’t have to skip their own dinner just to afford to keep a roof over his head and his formula.

But from the moment she’d held him in her arms she’d been lost, or maybe that wasn’t the right phrase… she  _ had _ been lost, but with Henry it was as though she found home… Either way, she’d been completely and utterly  _ gone _ for him, her little boy with his big eyes and chubby cheeks. She’d told social services she couldn’t go through with the adoption, and it was the single most selfish thing she’d ever done.

And yeah, maybe he would have had a better life with someone else. Maybe his clothes wouldn’t have been secondhand and his toys wouldn’t have been something his mom had found at the Goodwill. But God did she love her kid, more than she’d ever thought possible.

Coming home to him at the end of her shifts, it made her dead end job worth doing.

 

…

 

Sometimes when she returned home from work late at night she took a second glance at the elevator as she passed it on her way to the stairs. After a night of mixing drinks, pulling pints, and trying to politely turn down each of the drunken men that attempted to hit on her. She was more than ready to curl up on her couch and cuddle her little boy, the only guy she had room for in her life. But the memories of being stuck inside the dirty, piss scented metal box, were enough to make her pass by untempted. 

She trudged up the stairs sleepily, passed the damp, peeling wallpaper and graffitied obscenities in the hallway, busying herself with her keys as she passed her less than savoury neighbour John Willock in the hallway, and ignoring the bitter mutterings he made about her and Henry as he scowled and pulled his coat higher against his neck.

She reached her apartment and turned her key in the lock, an instant smile gracing her lips as she was greeted by a giggling Henry.

Killian looked up at her briefly when the door opened, smiling warmly at her before turning his attention back to her son. Henry was sat on his lap, and Killian was leaning against the foot of the couch, surrounded by toys and an obnoxiously coloured play mat. He was supporting Henry with the tops of his thighs and holding his little hands in his, bringing them up to his mouth and pretending to nibble at them. “Nom.” Henry’s mouth broke into a wide grin. “Nom” Killian turned his head closer to Henry’s fingers, grinning himself as he did. Henry giggled. “Nom, nom, nom, nom!” Henry squealed and laughed happily as Killian rubbed his scruff gently against Henry’s hands.

Killian laughed along with him as her son patted his face, trying to get a repeat performance, and Emma watched on fondly, smiling softly at the sight. Killian lifted Henry and turned him in his lap to face the door instead. “Mama’s home!” He cooed. 

Henry squealed and held out his arms for her so she swooped down to pick him up and lifted him high in the air. “Hi baby!” She smiled widely at him and he smiled his gummy smile right back at her. Emma ducked her head to nuzzle her nose against Henry’s tummy, but regretted it instantly when he gripped two fistfuls of her hair and tugged. This was why she always wore her hair up while she was home. She hissed and Killian jumped up to pry the sticky fingers gently from her hair.

She brought Henry back down to eyelevel and pursed her lips at him, as Killian pulled her hair back behind her shoulders to save it from another attack. “Thanks.” She smiled, balancing Henry on her hip and looking back over her shoulder at him, leaning away from Henry’s grabby hands as he tried to procure her glasses. 

Killian smiled softly at her. “Not a problem, Swan. He’s a pleasure, as always.”

“Hmm.” Emma hummed softly in amusement, they both knew Henry could be a little terror if he put his mind to it. Tonight was a good night, and he was getting better as he got older, but Emma wouldn’t soon forget the colicky newborn she’d had to contend with in those first months. The sleepless nights spent trying to soothe him, the tears shed when she was just at a complete loss over what to do.

“You want to go shower before I head home?” Killian smirked, raising an eyebrow, knowing full well that she wouldn’t turn him down.

“You’re a lifesaver, you know that?” She said against his cheek as she kissed it, shifting Henry between them so Killian could take him

“Mmhmm.” He grinned cheekily. “People certainly seem to think so.” Emma rolled her eyes at him, but was unable to quell the resulting smirk

  
  
  


**Fall 2003**

Emma was just finishing screwing on the top of Henry’s bottle when her Pop Tarts jumped out of the toaster, she grinned smugly to herself at her impeccable timing and twisted in her small kitchen to retrieve a plate from her cupboard. 

Her front door opened suddenly and she turned on her heel again to watch Killian walk through her door with a face like thunder. He dropped down on her couch, ran a frustrated hand through his hair, and sighed heavily. Emma tossed her breakfast down on her plate and held them up. “Pop Tart?” She chirped. Killian pulled a face and shook his head. “Right, you don’t do this amount of sugar this early in the morning. Huh?”

Killian’s lips reluctantly turned up in a fond smile. “First, I’m not sure I do that amount of sugar, ever. And second, you do realise it’s almost one in the afternoon.” He laughed. Emma waved a hand dismissively, walking over to sit beside him.

“What’s up?” She asked softly, squeezing his knee gently as she leaned down to pull Henry out of his bouncer.

“My hot water’s broken.” He muttered.

“Again?” Emma asked incredulously, it seemed like it was only last week that the landlord had finally listened and gotten it fixed the last time.

“Hmm.” He huffed, dejectedly. “It’s not just the water, it’s this whole place! The damp and the graffitti, the broken glass in the hallways, which smell more and more strongly of piss everyday… criminals live in better conditions.”

She grimaced, that she could attest to, her cell back in phoenix had been cleaner…

She wasn’t entirely sure how to cheer him up - this wasn’t even the second time his hot water had been off. The day they’d met he’d been on the way home from taking a shower at a friend’s. She could offer her shower for him to use, but she was pretty sure that went without saying by now. She lifted Henry towards him and her son cooed, holding up his chubby little hands towards him.

Killian smiled again, it was pretty impossible not to smile back at Henry when he smiled at you, taking him from her and hugging him to his chest. Henry laid his head on Killian’s shoulder with more understanding than any 10 month old Emma knew, and patted his arm gently. “We deserve better, don’t we lad?” Killian sighed softly, pressing his nose to her son’s downy hair. “All three of us… but especially you.” He peered over Henry’s head and smiled softly at her. “And you, Love.” 

Emma smiled and leaned to lay her head on his other shoulder, pulling her glasses off when they were knocked askew at the movement. He turned his head to press a kiss to the top of her head and Emma’s stomach fluttered despite how hard she tried to stop it. 

She’d been through this, done the whole teenage crush thing, and acted like an idiot over a man. She’d felt the flutters, and swooned when the guy complimented her. She remembered the signs of falling for someone, but it didn’t necessarily mean she knew how to keep herself from doing it. 

 

…

 

Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Emma always thought that saying was bullshit. 

Her parents had been absent her whole life and she found that as time went on she disliked  them all the more for it. The same went for Lily and finally for Neal, slowly the good memories began to fade and warp, and left only the bitter betrayal behind.

The same couldn’t be said however for Killian Jones. Once a month he went to visit his brother in Maine, he was never gone more than a week, and most of the time it was just a weekend trip. He texted her while he was away and sometimes he even called - there was really no reason for her to miss him when he was gone, but she did.

She missed having someone to talk to during the evening, having someone to watch her favourite shows with. She even missed the infuriating way he’d sing along or recite the theme songs and openings to said shows, blocking her arms with his as she playfully tried to beat him into silence. She missed calling him a dork.

Things felt off kilter when he was gone now, and it got worse each time. She’d gotten used to having him around, offering her a helping hand, a reassuring word when everything seemed to get on top of her. Like when Henry was teething and screaming himself hoarse in the middle of the night, the way he was now.

She dragged a hand through her hair, exhausted, and probably pulling a disgusting mix of sweat, baby saliva and teething gel through it as she did. “I know, I know, Kid… It hurts.” She bounced Henry in her arms, rocking and pacing the length of her living room, and screwing her eyes shut against the tears stinging behind her eyes. 

She felt too hot, her thoughts felt scattered, and her head was pounding. Usually the teething gel helped, it calmed him down, but it had been nearly an hour and she’d given him medicine and nothing seemed to be working… And for fuck’s sake her neighbour banging on her wall wasn’t fucking helping!

She threw one of Henry’s toys against the wall with a frustrated scream. “Shut up!!” She sobbed. The toy thudded to the floor pathetically and Henry stuttered in a breath, his cheeks bright red and tracked in tears, before letting out the shrillest scream yet.

Emma shifted Henry in her arms so he was upright instead of cradled, she pressed her nose to his temple and cupped the back of his head. “Shhh, Baby. Mama’s got you… It’ll stop hurting soon, I promise.”

He whimpered pitifully, pressing his wet cheeks and drool covered chin to her chest. Killian would be back tomorrow, and even though he probably wouldn’t know what to do anymore than she did, knowing that he’d be around, that she wouldn’t be alone, made things seem that bit less daunting.

There was an angry pounding on her door that made Emma jump and she backed away from it instinctively, holding Henry that bit closer. It was after two in the morning, so the only people it could be were angry neighbors and it didn’t take three guesses for Emma to figure out which one.

She ignored it at first, there wasn’t much she could do, and she didn’t fancy answering the door in an old tshirt and shorts, but the banging continued and Emma was pretty sure that was a boot not a fist. She could hear the wood of her front door cracking against the force and knew that if she didnt do something soon she wouldn’t have a door to open. 

“Hey!” The man bellowed. “Open up!” Emma had taken a few steps closer to the door, but at the tone of his voice she stepped back again. “Open this fucking door!” There was a slur to his words that made her uneasy. If he was sober Emma would have bet that he’d shout himself out before storming back off to his apartment, maybe he would have filed a noise complaint… but drunk… Emma wasn’t entirely sure how far John Willock would go to confront her. 

Perhaps if she faced him, now while she still had a door to put between them, she could apologise and talk him down…

She hurried to place Henry down. If she was gonna do this she didn’t want him anywhere close. Placing him down in the corner of the couch, she barricaded him in quickly with cushions. He screamed and held out his arms for her as she straightened up and walked away, and when she finally reached the door again, she tugged her oversized shirt down to cover herself better and slid the chain bolt securely into place before cracking the door open. 

It jumped open quickly as a result of one last kick, before catching on the chain and thankfully holding. She peered into the hallway, looking up to meet the eyes of John Willock- a plump, middle aged man with greying hair. She could smell the alcohol from where she stood, but even if she couldn’t have, he was still dressed as if he’d just returned home and his cheeks were flushed, eyes unfocused.

“Mr Willock,” she murmured in greeting. “I’m sorry if he’s woken you up,” She knew fine well that he hadn’t been anywhere near his bed recently, but she just wanted him to leave.

He pressed his leering face close to hers in the crack between the door and the frame, his breath hot and putrid. 

“I knew you and that little brat were bad news the second you moved in,” he spat.

Emma turned her face away, pushing her shoulder and hands against the door. “I’m sorry,” she said again, choosing to ignore the bitter remark. “I’m trying to settle him… He’s teething,” she added. 

“I don’t care if he’s on death’s door.” He barked. “Shut him up!”

Emma recoiled, deciding that facing him was the wrong thing to do and wanting to close her door again. She pushed against it to try and close the gap but he was too strong.

“I think you should go home.” She tried to make her voice sound firm but it jumped into a shrill panic when he kicked the door again and the chain was yanked out of her rotten door frame as the wood splintered under the force. 

Emma pushed all of her weight against the door, planting her feet and willing her heart to ease its hammering beat against her chest.

“Get out of my doorway!” she shouted, not even trying to cover the panic now, and she seemed to gain a little ground, but then he jammed his foot in the gap, making sure she couldn’t close the door. 

“I’ll call the cops.” She threatened. She’d say anything to keep him out of her home and away from Henry. 

“Hey!” Another voice came from down the hall. Emma instantly recognised it as Killian’s and relief flooded through her system.. 

“Killian!” She cried.

“Emma!” He called back, the worry and alarm in his tone audible even over the roar of blood in her ears. But Willock gave one last shove and, distracted by Killian’s miraculous arrival, Emma’s grip slipped. The edge of the door swung inward sharply, colliding with her forehead.

Pain flared through her head and she cried out, falling to the floor clutching her face. As she desperately tried to keep the door from swinging open anymore, but the force pushing it suddenly vanished. Then she heard someone's body hit the wall. 

“What the bloody fuck do you think you’re doing mate?” came Killian’s snarl. 

“She can’t learn to control the goddamn bastard, perhaps she should have kept her legs shut!” came Willock’s drunken sneer before she heard the sound of rushing steps followed by a second grunt of pain.

The sound of flesh colliding with flesh was enough to get her to push herself up onto her feet. She gave another sob, trying to pull breath into her lungs as she staggered to the door and out into the hallway. Her vision was blurry, but she couldn’t decide whether or not that was from the knock to her head or the fact that her glasses were no longer on her face.

Killian was pulling her neighbour up by the collar of his shirt before he gave him a hard shove back towards his own door. 

“Attacking a bloody woman, fucking bad form mate,” he growled as the man attempted to regain his balance.

“Killian,” she murmured, stumbling forward and gripping the back of his leather jacket, half to hold him back and half to steady herself as her head spun. 

Unable to get his feet under him, John bounced off the wall and slid down onto the floor. As he hit the carpet with a muffled thump, he tipped his head up to look at them, squinting against the hallway lights and laughing bitterly, “And now she’s got you over and is spreading her legs for you every other night. It’s not long before there’s another little shit screaming all hours of the morning.”

Killian looked as though he wanted to punch the guy again, and Emma pulled weekly on his arm. “Killian… don’t.” She pleaded, tripping over her feet and into him. 

He turned to catch her, and his eyes widened as they moved over her face. “Shit, Emma!” Immediately, John was forgotten as he focused all his attention on her bloody face.

He stooped down to eye level, hands hovering hesitantly over her face for a few seconds before he bent down even further and scooped her up.

He carried her into her apartment, kicking her door shut with his foot, and placed her down on her kitchen counter. He rifled through her kitchen drawers and Emma suddenly remembered that her son was still laying and screaming, unsupervised on the couch. 

“...Henry.” She murmured, pushing herself down off the counter to go get him.

“Emma!” Killian lunged to grab her wrist and held her still, pressing something to her head. It hurt and she tried to lean away but her back collided with the counter. “Emma you’re bleeding,” he said firmly, ignoring her efforts to turn her head away and pressing what she now realised was a teatowel to her forehead.

“Henry,” she protested. He turned to look over at where Henry was squirming on the couch and took her hand and pressed it against her head to hold the towel in place. 

“I’ll get him.” He said softly, lifting her by the waist to sit back down on the countertop. “Now sit still, Love.” 

He went and retrieved Henry, bouncing him in his arms. “Those teeth still giving you bother,  Lad?” Henry quietened slightly at the new face, but began crying anew just a few seconds later.

Killian eased Henry onto her lap and she hugged him to her with the hand that wasn’t holding the tea towel to her head. She wanted her baby close, she wanted to be able to feel his weight in her arms and smell his baby shampoo. When Killian did take the towel from her, and she found her hand coated in blood, she stared at it as it shook, feeling dizzy and her stomach churning.

Killian took the hand by the wrist and dragged it down over his chest, wiping it on his shirt so she could hold Henry with it. 

It felt as though they were in the kitchen for hours, but it couldn’t have been more than a half hour. Killian, to her utter disbelief, managed to find a teether in the back of her freezer and slowly Henry’s cries softened as he gnawed on it.

Killian was stood practically between her legs, watching her in concern and pushing her hair back out of her face  “I thought you weren’t home until tomorrow.” She whispered, eyes still closed against the pounding in her skull.

He tucked her hair behind her ear, cupping her cheek in his hand and she leaned into it. “It technically is tomorrow, Lass.”

Emma swayed forward so that they were chest to chest. “I missed you.” She murmured.

“I think I should take you to the hospital.” He said, his voice still soft, almost like a lullaby. 

“No!” She said quickly, leaning back, her brain felt as though it was swirling in her head, and tears welled in her eyes, one of which was starting to swell shut. “Please Killian, don’t take me there.” She didn’t do hospitals, not unless it was for Henry’s sake. It was filled with memories of lonely prenatal appointments, she could still feel the bite of handcuffs around her ankle during examinations… during the birth… 

He sighed. “Alright! Alright, Love.” He wrapped an arm around her and pressed a kiss to her head. “But you’re staying with me tonight, it’s not safe here, your front door’s ruined.” Emma dropped her head to his chest and nodded in agreement, letting the tears fall.

 

…

 

Killian had carried Henry and guided her up the flight of stairs to his floor, and then down the hallway to his apartment. In the seven months they’d known each other, she’d never been up to his apartment, it was easier for him to come to her, instead of her dragging all of Henry’s things around. 

She lay on his bed as he tended to Henry, feeling too dizzy to so much as raise her head. Killian had set up the travel cot in his living room since it was the only spot big enough, and she listened as he sang softly to Henry in the other room, settling him down to sleep. 

Emma curled up on top of his comforter, pulling one of his pillows up to her chest and pressing her nose into the cotton. It smelt like his hair, like shampoo and something distinctly Killian. She closed her eyes and focused on it, letting it calm her and slow her racing heart.

She was still shaky and shivery and she gripped the cover of the pillow to try and stop it, but John’s callous remarks played on repeat in her head and as much as she tried to banish them to the back of her mind, they just wouldn’t go.

She didn’t sleep around, Neal was her first, and there hadn’t been anyone since… And she’d loved him, but every time she thought back there was a nagging feeling in the back of her head, she started doubting herself and she started wondering if, at least in the beginning, she slept with him for the right reasons.

He’d never forced her into anything, and they’d messed around a lot before their first time. There’d been times where she’d told him to stop, and he had, but she couldn’t help but feel like like he was a bit… exasperated by it.

Back then, Neal had been everything to her, he’d made his way past all her walls, and she’d let her guard down, let herself depend on him.They had a good thing going, she was warm, safe, she wasn’t hungry or lonely, she had a roof over her head, albeit a car one… The idea of him leaving had terrified her, so the next time she’d felt that uncertainty, she’d ignored it. You were supposed to be nervous the first time… right?

Looking back, she knew it was for all the wrong reasons. In the end it hadn’t kept him around… and she was ashamed of herself,  _ she should have kept her legs shut _ .

“...Hey,” came Killian’s soft voice.

She jumped, she hadn’t heard him come in, hadn’t even felt him sit down on the bed beside her. “Here. For your head.” He tipped some tablets into her palm, and helped her sit up enough to swallow them with a gulp of water. “And here.” 

He lifted an icepack towards her. “Killian.” She whined, turning her head away.

“It’ll help with the swelling, Emma. If you hadn’t been bleeding so bad I would have gotten one earlier.” He persevered, pressing the pack gently to her head. She groaned and lay back down, head in his lap, she would have rolled her eyes if it didn’t hurt so much. “I’m assuming you have a headache, but anything else?.. You feeling sick? Blurred vision?”

“I don’t have my glasses on, so yeah.” She deadpanned. He huffed out a laugh, more air than sound and brushed her hair back off her forehead. “Where are my glasses?” She frowned. He froze in his ministrations and Emma sensed that bad news was coming. “Killian?...” She said hesitantly. He sighed, lifting to reach inside the pocket of his jeans and pulling out a fist, he opened his palm to reveal her glasses, in two separate parts.

She sat up suddenly, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed and ignoring the sickening lurch in her head, she snatched the pieces from him to inspect them. One of the legs had snapped clean off and one of the lenses had shattered, they were beyond repair. She screwed her eyes shut and bit her lip the keep it from quivering. 

“Have you got a spare pair?” Killian asked her tentatively, she shook her head. They were her only pair, at least from her latest prescription, and there was no way she could afford another anytime soon.

She gripped the broken glasses in her fist, the plastic frames creaking under the force, and flung them to the floor in frustration. “Hey.” Killian said softly, wrapping an arm across her shoulders. “We’ll sort things out, I can lend you some money if you need it.”

“No!” She snapped, shrugging his arm off her shoulder. “I don’t want your money! I don’t need your help!” Fat tears rolled over her cheeks, the fact that he knew she couldn’t afford new glasses without her having to say it, made her cheeks burn in embarrassment. She hung her head in her hands, cursing silently when her voice cracked on her next sentence. “I don’t.. I don’t need you to take care of me.” She whispered.

“I know…” His voice was gentle as ever.  “Emma, I’ve yet to see you fail… but Darling, letting someone take care of you, isn’t a bad thing, it doesn’t mean you’re failing… You don’t have to do everything alone, Love.”

“That’s how I’ve always done it.” She murmured, laughing humorlessly. “You got sick in a group home, they made sure you stayed in your room so that the other kids didn’t get it, if you were lucky you got medicine, but most of the time you weren’t lucky.”

There’d been no one to hold her when she was a kid and she was burning up and all her muscles were aching from flu, no one to hold her hair back when the morning sickness kicked in with Henry, but she’d learned to cope eventually. She’d carried on and gotten things done   

Killian wrapped his arm around her shoulders again and this time she didn’t shake him off,  letting him pull her back down to the mattress. He shuffled further into the middle of the bed and pulled her closer to him, tucking her head beneath his chin and slotting the cold compress between his shoulder and her forehead. 

Emma let herself be held just this once, let herself listen to the  _ thud thud thud _ of his heartbeat against her cheek and feel the weight of his strong arms around her. She remembered the last time someone had held her like this, it had been Neal, and behind all the complicated feelings and heartbreak, she knew there was a part of her that missed it… not him… just this.… Having someone hold her, that warm, happy, safe feeling you got when you wrapped your arms around someone and they did the same back.

She could feel him playing absently with her hair, threading and weaving the long strands through his fingers, and she let the feeling slowly lull her to sleep. 

 

…

 

When she woke up it took a few moments for her brain to process where she was. The light that streamed in through the window dazed her until she figured out that Killian’s apartment was on the east of the building, where as hers was on the west. The man in question lay in front of her, still asleep, mouth slightly agape. Her first instinct was to get out of there before he woke up, but when she tried to lift her head it pounded in protest.

She lay her head back down to wait for the dizziness to pass. Her face felt puffy and her skin felt tight and she realised that her left eye wouldn’t quite open all the way. She suddenly wished that she’d taken Killian and his ice pack more seriously. God knows what she looked like…

Killian snored softly and shifted in his sleep, one of his hands sliding lazily over her hip. “Bloody seagulls.” He muttered, still obviously in the midst of a dream. Emma snorted and frowned, turning her face into her pillow to try and stay quiet.

He settled back down eventually and Emma found herself admiring him. The way his long, dark eyelashes rested against his cheeks, the faint creases in the corners of his eyes - the mark of a man who smiled. She reached out hesitantly to touch the side of his face. His facial hair was a bit thicker than he usually let it get, but she figured that was because he hadn’t had access to his shaver while he’d been away. She let her fingers and her eyes trace down from the spot below his pointed ear, over the sharp line of his jaw, but where her fingers stopped her eyes continued to trail over the curve of his lower lip.

“...Morning.” Emma practically jumped out of her skin when he spoke, snatching her hand back like it had been burned and leaning away, biting her lip like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar. If he had caught her he didn’t mention it, justed sucked air through his teeth and frowned, pressing his fingers to the corner of her eye. 

Pain shot through her and she hissed and flinched. “Sorry.” He murmured, cupping her cheek in his palm instead, brushing his thumb gently against the side of her face. “...You should report him.”

She scoffed. “We both know they wouldn’t do anything.”

“I don’t mean to the building, Swan, I mean to the police.” She screwed up her nose and shook her head, the idea of going through all that right now was beyond her. She just wanted to curl up with Henry and forget the whole thing. “Emma…” He began to protest, so she cut him off with the first thing that came to mind.

“What did seagulls ever do to you?”

“What?” His brows furrowed in confusion.

“In your sleep.” She clarified, a smirk playing at the corner of her lips. “You were mumbling about ‘Bloody seagulls.’” She tried to imitate his accent.

It seemed to take him a few moments to catch on, but when he did he laughed, the apples of his cheeks and the tips of his ears going pink. “Ahh… I used to be scared of them as a boy.” He admitted. “And it provided Liam with hours of entertainment, and then plenty of prank material while we were in the Navy. I got over the fear eventually, didn’t stop Liam and the lads throwing bits of their lunch my way so the bloody things would ambush me.”

Emma laughed, even though she felt like she shouldn’t, hyper aware of the hand that was running softly over her side. “I used to be scared of needles…” She admitted distractedly, “They still kinda freak me out.” He was smiling fondly at her, threading the fingers of his other hand through her hair again.

“Injections are the worst.” He agreed softly.

“I once kicked the nurse when I was little, when she was trying to give me shots.” 

“Now that I can imagine.” He laughed.

“Mmmm.” She hummed.

The air in the room felt thick, heavy with something that Emma wasn’t sure she was ready to identify. She’s wasn’t stupid, and Killian wasn’t exactly subtle… she knew he liked her, but while she’d resloved to ignore her feelings for him, she hadn’t planned for what to do if  _ he _ tried to do something about it.

Before she knew it he was leaning in, and his lips were right there, and even through all her fear and confusion, she knew that deep down she wanted to close the gap… but she couldn’t. The fear won out, the fear of losing him, of things changing, and she pushed her hands against his chest and turned her head away. 

“I...I should go see Henry.” She stammered, trying to push herself back and up but getting caught in the sheets instead. Her cheeks burned in embarrassment and she twisted around ungracefully, pulling the blankets away and swinging her feet off the bed.

Her head was swimming and she had to sit still for a few moments until the room stopped spinning. “Emma…” She’d felt him sit up behind her, his voice laced with concern, but she didn’t stick around, she took a deep breath and stood, before shuffling unsteadily out of the room.

 

...

 

He didn’t follow her right away and she was grateful. It gave her time to think, figure out how to go forward. She lifted Henry up out of the travel cot and carried him into the kitchen to make his bottle.

The last thing she wanted was for things to be weird between her and Killian, but what was the best course of action? Would talking about it make it more awkward or less?  Frustrated tears stung the backs of her eyes and she tried to swallow the lump in her throat as she perched Henry down on the countertop and leaned her elbows on it as well.

Papers crumpled under her arm so she lifted it quickly and pulled Henry off them. She didn’t mean to read them, she wasn’t prying or anything, but they were just there, face up right in front of her. At first she wasn’t even sure what she was looking at, but slowly realisation dawned and her heart felt as though it plummeted down into her stomach.

It just so happened that right then the sound of footsteps started down the hall. “...Emma… Love… can we talk?”

“You’re moving.” She accused. The words were just beyond a whisper and she watched as his emotions passed over his face, confusion, realisation and finally, guilt.

“Swan, let me explain...” He said quickly, holding up his hands and approaching slowly as though she were an animal he was trying not to spook.

She shook her head, moving to walk passed him and push the papers against his chest. A copy of an application for an apartment in Storybrooke. A lease, signed by the owner, someone called David Nolan, with a blank space that she assumed would be for his signature, and the contract for a new job. God she’d been so stupid... 

“These have made things quite clear.” She muttered, trying to keep the emotion out of her voice, tilting her chin up defiantly and blinking the tear out of her eyes.

She jostled Henry, trying to get him resting higher on her hip, but she stumbled and was just able to catch herself on the side of the couch. She closed her eyes, wanting her head to stop spinning, her thoughts to stop racing.

“...Emma.” He he said softly, hesitantly. He stepped into her space and he stooped to catch her eyes with his. Traitorous tears welled in her own eyes and she turned her head away. “Sit down.” He urged. 

“I’m going home now.” He gripped her elbow and she pulled it away irritably “Let go of me.” She stumbled again, and tried to swallow down the nauseous feeling, the bitter taste in her mouth. She lay her head against the top of Henry’s, feeling as though it was going to burst at the seams.

“Pass Henry to me, Love. You’re not well…” She sobbed helplessly, wanting nothing more than to just lie down and curl up on her bed. He took Henry from her gingerly and she let him, because despite everything she’d uncovered in the last few minutes, she trusted him with her son, she trusted Killian to keep him safe… What she was more hesitant to trust him with, was her heart. 

She pushed open his door and hurried out, down the corridor and towards the stairs, she’d barely made it down the third when she lost her balance and started to fall forward. His arm wrapped around her middle and pulled her back and the two of them landed with a groan, in a heap on the stairs. Her stomach churned and the nauseous feeling finally won out, she lurched to the side to try and avoid his leg, and threw up. 

He held her steady in his lap while she shivered and and her teeth chattered, one arm clenched tightly around her waist as the other pulled her hair back out of her face. “You’re alright.” His own voice sounded shaky, whether that was from chasing her, or because of her almost fall, she didn't know, but she could feel his heart against her back, hammering in his chest.

When she finally felt like she wasn't going to throw up again, she slumped back against his shoulder, inhaling shakily, and biting her lip to cover a whimper. She felt so out of control, she wanted things to stop for a second, or at least slow down a little. Killian rubbed her back. “Come on, I’m taking you to the hospital.”

She didn't have the energy to argue.

 

…

 

She hated waiting rooms, even with her head pounding and that unpleasant, acidic taste in her mouth, that didn't change.

Killian tried to talk to her while they waited, but she just closed her eyes and pretended that her head hurt too much to talk. They’d left Henry with the old woman that lived opposite her, she’d taken once look at Emma and taken him in without question, before urging Killian to get her to the hospital. Emma used to leave him with her before she’d known Killian, or when both their shifts collided. She was lovely, but Emma didn't like to bother her for more than a few hours. 

She shifted uncomfortably in the hard wooden chair she was sitting in, Killian tried to put an arm around her shoulder but she shrugged him off irritably. “Swan.” He sighed. “I know you’re angry with me…”

“I’m not.” She cut him off, screwing her eyes shut in discomfort. “I’m not angry that your leaving… I just can’t believe you didn’t even tell me you were considering it.” She hissed, acutely aware that they weren’t alone, but despite that, the eye that wasn’t swollen shut welled with tears.

He sighed, reaching across to grip her hand tightly with his. “Emma…” He started. 

“Emma Swan?” The nurse called.

Emma pulled her hand out of his, turned away from him and stood, he quickly followed suit and put an arm around her to keep her steady. 

 

…

 

She had concussion, but she’d guessed that anyway. 

They’d asked her some questions, shined a light in her eyes, and prescribed her some pain meds. They told her to rest, let her boyfriend take care of her, the boyfriend they referred to being Killian, and she’d been too exhausted and embarrassed to correct them.

They caught a cab home and he didn’t try to talk to her the whole way back, whether that was because they weren’t alone or because he had nothing to say, she wasn’t sure. 

He stopped her from opening the door to the sixth floor hallway by gripping her elbow. “Mrs Davis says she’ll take him for the night.”

“I’d rather he was with me.” She muttered. 

“Emma, you need to rest.” He protested.

“I need my son.” She snapped, the leaflets the doctor had given her crumpling in her tight fist.  _ Symptoms of concussion include; dizziness, nausea and mood swings... irritability.  _ She took a deep breath trying to tame the anger boiling inside. “I need my son.” She muttered again, her voice flat, devoid of emotion . “I don’t need you.”

He didn’t say anything at first, his brows drawn down low over his eyes, and looked away from her. She’d hurt him. “Well, I’m afraid the doctor disagrees, so unless you can find someone else to watch you for the next forty-eight hours...” He gestured up the next flight of stairs, jaw clenched. Emma pursed her lips, looking between the door that lead to her floor and the flight of stairs that lead to his.

She didn’t have anyone else to take care of her, he knew that… Other than Henry, he was all she had… and he was leaving…

Those damn tears welled in her eyes again, the whole situation was a mess, she just wished she could go back, unread those documents. Hell, she wished she could go back and never open the door to that bastard of a neighbour at all… She wasn’t fit to look after Henry on her own, what if she lost her balance as she picked him up? She walked passed Killian, towards the stairs, swiping angrily at her eyes as she went.

They didn’t talk as they climbed the stairs, he didn’t even say anything once she was sat on his couch, resting her head to the side in a cradle she made with her arms. 

He puttered around the kitchen, warming milk in the microwave and making hot cocoa, Emma watched his back as he did. She could tell by the way he held himself, the way he dragged his hand anxiously through his hair, that he was nervous about talking to her. She couldn’t help but feel like he was just trying to delay the inevitable. 

When he was done he brought the drink over to her, and she took it without looking at him, letting the heat of the mug warm her fingers. He sat on the coffee table in front of her, and allowed the silence get so awkward that she had no choice but to meet his eyes. “I know you’re angry with me, Love…” 

“I’m not your ‘Love’.” She muttered, then laughed humourlessly. “I’m not even angry, Killian. Not really. If you can get out of this dump then you should… I just would have liked a bit more warning.”

“I wanted to be sure before I said anything, Lo- Emma.” He corrected himself. “I only got offered the job two days ago, I got the lease for the apartment yesterday.”

He pushed the pile of papers into her lap, but she avoided looking at them, gluing her gaze to the rim of her mug. He turned the page and lifted it over her mug so she had no choice but to look, revealing some photographs of the place, the kitchen the living area, the bathroom. “What do you think?”

Why was he doing this to her? Did he really think, seeing all this would make it easier? Make the fact that he was moving away sink in or something? How far away was Storybrooke anyway? She didn’t say any of this however, all she said was, “It’s lovely, Killian.”

He turned the page again, these photos were of the bedrooms. “And this one?” He pointed to the picture of the first bedroom, it looked cosy, but not exactly small, with wooden floorboards and beams that made her think it was some sort of loft space… She was sure he could make it nice for himself. 

“Why does it matter what I think about it?”  She murmured.

He shuffled forward so that he was perched on the edge of his coffee table and bowed his head to catch her eye. “Because it’s your bedroom, if you want it.”

At first she thought perhaps she’d heard him wrong, or perhaps the bump to the head was making her hear things. “Mine?” She questioned, just in case.

“Aye, if you want it.” He reassured. 

She looked down at the photos again, then back up at him, still a little bit confused. “You want us to live with you?”

“Yes.” He laughed quietly, smiling fondly at her. “I want you to wait until your head’s a little less rattled before you decide… but yes, I’d like that.”

“But… I have Henry…” She said dumbly. Surely he didn’t want to be stuck with a baby tearing around the place? She looked around his apartment, attempting to be subtle- it was ridiculously organised... she wasn’t sure her place had ever been this tidy... 

“Charming little fellow he is too.” She scoffed and rolled her eyes at him, but couldn’t help but smile a little too- he was actually serious… He’d been looking for a place for the two of them. “I understand if it’s not what you want...” He started.

“No!” She cut him off. “I mean… I’d love to, but I’m not sure if I could afford it, especially if I have to find a job…” It was hard enough for her to find a job here, what with a criminal record and only a highschool education. 

“Your share of the rent would be around what you’re paying now.” He reassured. “And with my new job, I could afford to support the three of us until you found yourself something.” 

Emma felt as though she’d been given too much information to process all at once… She wanted out of here, after last night that was something she was certain of. She wanted better for her son, but this was big. Moving home, moving states… moving in with Killian… 

Her mind went back involuntarily to this morning, the way he’d leaned in to kiss her. He hadn’t said anything about it, seemed content to pretend that the whole thing had never happened, but she wasn’t entirely sure she could do the same… Did he think that by becoming roommates there was a better chance of something happening between them? If anything it was less probable… Where would she go if things didn’t work out when they were already living together?

She shook her head. That didn’t matter, she just wouldn’t tempt fate. She liked him, and she would be lying if she said that she hadn’t thought about (on at least three separate occasions)  what it would have felt like if she hadn’t turned away from the kiss. But she valued their friendship far too much to risk it on a relationship that might not even work out…

Killian reached out to squeeze her hand. “Take a couple of days to think it over… I certainly wasn’t planning on dumping all this on you at once.”

“There was a plan?” She smirked.

He stretched and scratched at the spot behind his ear anxiously “Aye.” He laughed, standing to shift over and sit beside her on the couch. “The plan was to subtly suggest it, bloody lot of good that did me.”

She laughed with him and tipped her head to rest it on his shoulder. “You know if we live together you’ll have to learn to put down the toilet seat.”

“Ah.” He grinned, amusement in his eyes. “I’ll learn to do that when  _ you  _ learn not to leave your underwear lying around the place.”

She gaped at him and slapped his chest playfully. “I do not!”

(She totally did, but that's besides the point.)  
  


 

**Winter 2003**

 

Moving back and forth while she was in the foster system hadn’t nearly prepared her for getting ready to move in with Killian. Back then she’d travelled light, she’d had a backpack with her most precious things, her baby blanket, a book or two, her old walkman, sometimes she’d had a suitcase of clothes, sometimes she didn’t. It depended on if she was being sent away, or running away. 

She realized while she was packing however that she had more stuff than she thought, albeit most of it was Henry’s (babies had so much stuff!). But even she’d accumulated more over the last year than she knew what to do with.

Killian had been shocked to find out that she owned a car, which was understandable since even she couldn’t remember the last time she’d driven it. Neal had left it for her for when she’d gotten out of prison, although she’d never know why, but she couldn’t really afford to run it or keep it on the road not to mention that it still reminded her of him- and she didn’t have a car seat anyway.  She kept the car in the buildings small parking lot, in case she ever needed some emergency cash, but now it seemed that it was time for the old Bug to come out of retirement. 

Killian had paid to get it back on the road, and she’d chipped in as much as she could afford despite his protests. He’d driven down in it and taken most of his things down the week before and returned with his nephew’s old car seat, All that had been left to do after that was try to fit all her stuff around it.

The journey to Maine was long and strenuous. Henry didn’t appreciate the car seat at all, and when the rock of the car wasn’t lulling him to sleep he was screaming to be out.  Emma vowed there and then never to travel so long again until he was at least old enough to be distracted by ‘I spy.’

They reached Killian’s brother’s house in the early hours of the morning, tired, hungry, and in dire need of a shower, but had only had enough energy to change and fall into bed. 

Which lead her to now, sitting in her PJ’s cross legged in Killian’s brother’s living room, where she’d spent the night on the pull out couch. Her, Liam and Elsa had exchanged pleasantries when they’d arrived last night, but they’d left her and Killian to get to bed after a quick introduction after seeing how tired they were. Killian had slept in his nephew’s room, but she could hear him and the others moving around and getting ready. So she was waiting for one of them to come down. 

Henry was sat across from her and they were playing with his favourite toy, a colourful stuffed dragon with crinkly scales, when she heard little feet thudding on the hardwood floor. Seconds later a voice shouted down the hall “Kiernan!”

She smiled and peered over the edge of the bed, watching as the little boy padded faster, completely naked, across the room, giggling. “Hey, Buddy!” The kid stopped and looked up at her, a little crease forming between his eyebrows. She smiled widely at him and waved, slowly he started to smile back, his cute little nose all scrunched up.

Someone barreled into the door but stopped before opening it completely. “Ahhh… Emma?”

It was Liam. “Come in.” She laughed, adjusting her top to make sure she was decent. He opened the door further and walking inside, eyes scanning the room for his run away son. The boy squealed and started to scamper away again but Liam caught up to him in three long strides and swooped down to scoop him up while he giggled. “Kiernan, Lad! This is no way to introduce yourself to a Lass!”

Another laugh came from the doorway and Emma turned to find Killian, leaning against it, dressed in fresh clothes and his hair wet from a shower. Liam swung around to face him, looking rather unimpressed. “I thought you were watching him?”

“I was!” He sniggered. “I turned around to fetch his clothes and he hightailed it out of there. He’s fast, you know?”

Liam rolled his eyes “He’s two years old, Killian.”

“And already trying to woo the ladies.” He grinned cheekily.

“Shame he takes after his uncle in his tactics.” Liam shot back. 

Emma snorted, quickly covering her mouth with her hand. Killian scowled at him. “Bugger off.”

Liam grinned smugly. “Only give as good as you can take, Little brother.”

“Younger brother.” Killian corrected. 

“Oh, not this again.” Elsa glided the room, her hair pulled up in an elegant braid and Emma found herself wondering when in the next year she’d get the same amount of time or energy, amidst the toddler raising, to make herself look half as good. “We have guests,” she scolded them lightly, a fond smile playing at the corner of her lips. “Behave… Good morning, Emma.” Elsa smiled at her and Emma smiled back. “I hope they didn’t wake you.”

“No.” She laughed, scooping Henry up in her arms. “This little alarm clock is set for 7am.”

 

…

 

Elsa and Liam offered to look after Henry while her and Killian went to meet the owner of their new apartment and started unpacking. And although she would rather not have bothered them, Emma had to admit it would be a lot easier to get things sorted without having Henry attached to her hip. 

They met David Nolan outside of an old brick building, but unlike their last place it looked well kept and wasn’t one of those huge builds with fifteen floors where every apartment looked like a clone of then last. It was smaller, three floors tops and even from the outside Emma could tell it would have more character in one room than the other had in the entire building. 

David was a middle aged man with blonde hair and Emma couldn’t help but like him. He greeted Killian with a one armed guy hug and her with a handshake and friendly smile, before giving them both a set of keys and letting Emma unlock the door and take the first steps inside. 

It was an open plan but cosy loft space, light and airy with the original brickwork peeking through the paint. He showed them around each room, and Emma was a little overwhelmed by how big it was. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had so much space. 

He showed them her room and she nearly teared up when she found a cot already set up in the corner. 

“Where?..” she murmured, covering her mouth in disbelief. When Henry had outgrown his moses basket she hated that she hadn’t been able to afford anything more than a cheap travel cot. Killian had reassured her that Henry would be fine, and she was sure he would be, but she couldn’t help but feel like a failure for not being able to provide him with a proper bed.

“I have a four year old son who’s just moved into his ‘big boy bed’” David explained, putting a comforting arm around her shoulder. “He won’t miss it, I can assure you.”

“I dont know what to say.” She murmured. “Not just for the bed… this place is…” It was worth so much more than she was paying for it, that was even more evident seeing it in real life. 

He squeezed her shoulders. “We look out for each other here Emma… My wife and I used to live here, and I’d much rather this place go to someone who fits in with our community. And from what Killian tells us about you, you’ll do just fine.”

Emma peered over at Killian and raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t the first time someone had mentioned him talking about her, Liam and Elsa had teased him mercilessly about it, and she wondered about what kind of things he said for these people to think so highly of her.

David helped them carry their boxes up the stairs and into their respective rooms before leaving them to unpack.   

They went through room by room, bickering over stupid, mundane things like the positioning of the furniture and whether the scissors lived in the drawer with the big knives or in the drawer with the cutlery.

Emma hadn’t really lived with another person since she was in foster care so she’d long since forgotten that some people did things differently to her. Obviously there had been Neal, but the proper placement of kitchen utensils wasn’t something you argued about when you lived in a Bug.

Emma still couldn't believe the amount of space she had to play with now. Back in her old place she’d had a single bed and Henry’s travel cot had been so tightly packed that she’d only been able to get out of the bottom of one side of it. But her new room was huge, the bigger of the two (at Killian’s insistence.) Henry had his own little corner that she could turn it into a little nursery, and she still had room for a wardrobe and a dresser for their clothes.

The fact that she was moving hadn’t really sunk in until then, but when it did she felt lighter, everything that had happened in that place was behind her now, and all that was left to do was look forward. She found herself swaying to the music they had playing on the radio and squealed when Killian grabbed her and spun her around without warning, laughing heartily as he did so.

The atmosphere was intoxicating and the two of them laughed and danced to the music as they worked, or at least tried to work. Everytime she seemed to be making progress Killian was pulling her away to muck around. “Okay that’s enough.” She laughed breathlessly, pulling her hands out of his and moving over to the kitchen to sort though the pots and pans they’d left on the counter.

He chased after her and reached around from behind her, grabbing her hands again and wrapping her fingers around a whisk and a spatula that hadn’t been put away yet. He lifted them up and made her tap them against the pots as though she was playing the drums to the music. She giggled giddily and leaned back against him, tipping her head back to lay it against his chest. “Killian!” She whined playfully.

He kept on dumming, pressing his lips to the crown of her head and laughing lowly against her hair. He tapped out the big finish to the song with her and she could feel his smile against her, just as wide as her own. She turned in his embrace and wrapped her own arms around his waist, pressing her nose to his chest. He smelt like soft cotton and laundry detergent, and sweat from lifting and carrying their things.

He rocked them both side to side and indulged herself in imagining what it would be like to let him hold her like this all the time, let him brush his lips with hers. She could do it, she wanted to. If she kissed him now she was almost certain he’d go along with it, but that same fear continued to niggle at the back of her head.  _ What if things didn’t work out?  _ So instead, when he turned his head slightly closer, she hid her face against his chest.

This was home now. Her, Henry and Killian, and she wasn’t going to do anything to jeopardise that.

  
  


**Spring 2004**

 

The longer Emma was in Storybrooke the more she liked it there.

Just over a week after they’d moved in Emma was offered a job at the diner on Main street, ‘ _ Granny’s _ ’ it was called, after the old lady that ran the place. (Emma still wasn’t sure what the woman's actual name was and in his childish amusement, Killian refused to tell her.) She’d gone in asking if there was any work going, and walked out after an interview so informal that she didn’t even realise she was having it, with a shift for the following Friday.

She enjoyed working there so much more than her old place, the people were nicer and she wasn’t constantly having to fend of handsy drunks. It was a friendly community, where everyone knew everyone, and Granny’s seemed to be the heart of it.

Killian usually came in every day to pick up lunch for him and his brother, but today he was late. She kept peering up from wiping the counter to look up at the door, and it didn’t go unnoticed.

“I’m sure he’s fine.” Mary Margaret laughed, from her stool on the opposite side of the counter. Her and Emma had become fast friends over the past few months of her living there, and Emma wasn’t 100% sure how it happened. David had popped by a few days after they moved, and introduced Mary Margaret as his wife, they’d brought them a housewarming gift so Emma had invited them in for coffee.

She’d never met someone so unbelievably (and a little infuriatingly) optimistic. She saw the best in everyone, even her. Emma didn’t really do friends, she was a bit of a loner (Killian being the only exception) but Mary Margaret seemed to be changing that.

“I’m not worried about him.” She scoffed, faking nonchalance. “He can take care of himself, he’s a big boy.”

“He’s a fine piece of ass, that’s what he is.”

“Ruby!” Mary Margaret scolded, positively scandalised. Emma rolled her eyes.

Ruby was another friend that Emma didn’t realise she’d made until she was engaging in girl talk and planning shopping trips. She was a little on the… eccentric side maybe, but her heart was in the right place. “I’m just saying.” She held her hands up in surrender. “If I lived with him, and I didn’t have a girlfriend that could whoop said ass, I’d be right on that.”

Mary Margaret tutted and shook her head, Emma smirked down at the counter she was wiping. “How did you two meet anyway? Killian said you lived in the same building, but he never really gave any particulars.”

“Hmmm.” Emma hummed fondly. “Probably because there isn’t much he could tell you about it that didn’t involve my breasts.”

Both the girls raised their eyebrows. “Say what?” Ruby’s voice had raised an octave.

Emma laughed. “We got stuck in an elevator for a couple hours.” Ruby waggled her eyebrows, her eyes glinting with mischief but Emma waved her off. “I had to feed Henry,” she deadpanned.

Ruby sighed. “Aww, you’re no fun.”

“Have you never thought about it?” Mary Margaret prompted gently, and Emma knew instantly that she was busted, but tried to play it off anyway.

“Thought about what?”

Mary Margaret gave her a look, like an unimpressed mother. “Emma…” The bell above the door rang and Killian rushed in, cheeks flushed and looking dishevelled. Emma blanched and cut her eyes over to the other woman “Don’t ‘ _ Emma _ ’ me” She hissed quietly.

Killian jogged towards them and leaned over the counter. “Emma, Love, I’m running late, you couldn’t work some of your magic and get my brother and your favourite roommate a turkey sub?”

“You’re my only roommate.” She lifted a paper bag from out of one of the fridges that she’d made up earlier. “Here” She smirked, reaching for the pot and pouring coffee into a to go cup.

He grinned fondly at her and pressed a twenty into her palm, leaning further over the counter to peck her on the cheek. “You’re a saviour. See you tonight.”

“See you tonight.” She said softly, and just like that he was gone. The whole exchange had lasted less than a minute, but no doubt it would be on her mind for the rest of the day.

“That boy is smitten.” Mary Margaret tittered.

Ruby sweeped past to collect a dirty glass from the counter. “Never mind him, I’d say she was pretty fuckstruck too.”

Emma groaned.

 

**Summer 2004**

Going on a date wasn’t exactly a bad thing? Right? It wasn’t her fault anyway, Mary Margaret and Ruby had set her up on this blind date without her knowledge (or permission for that matter.)

Sure, she hadn’t told Killian about it, but that wasn’t because she she was worried about his reaction. She just didn’t want to make it a  _ thing. _

It wasn’t a thing! She’d go, do her time, and the guy had better appreciate it because it had been so long since she’d dressed up, she’d had to go out and buy a dress and some makeup,  and damn these heels were already killing her.

… She felt guilty… She’d told Killian she was going out for a girls night, and he was looking after her son while she was on a date.

She looked over at the clock on her nightstand and cursed, flinging her bag over her shoulder and starting down the stairs. She’d just made it to the door when Killian’s surprised voice called down the hall “Swan!”

She spun to face him, a little dumbfounded to find him dressed up too. “Killian!”

She didn’t miss the way he look her up and down. “You look stunning, Swan.”

She smoothed down the front of her dress nervously. “Thank you… You look… too dressed up to be taking care of Henry.” She said carefully.

“Ahhh… Liam wants to go out for a drink. I hope you don’t mind, but Elsa said she’d take him and… I can tell Liam no if it’s not.” He was already reaching into his pocket for his phone so she reached out and grabbed his hand to still it.

“It’s fine! Killian! Honest, go spend time with your brother.” She tried to smile reassuringly at him, but he wasn’t looking at her.

“I’d rather be spending time with you.” He admitted.

Emma laughed nervously, straightening his waistcoat. “I’ll be good for us, getting out of the apartment. Besides I’m the one going out when I can’t even legally drink yet, at least you’ve got that going for you. I’m gonna end up the designated driver.” He laughed quietly. “Do you need me to drop Henry off?”

“No! No, you get yourself away… Enjoy your girls night.” He brushed some of her hair back behind her ear.  “You really do look amazing.” Her stomach fluttered and churned all at the same time. This was wrong, lying to him was all wrong, here she was going on a date with someone she didn’t even know, when she had feelings, real feelings that were so far past a simple crush, for her best friend.

But this guy, a good friend of Mary Margaret and David apparently, was probably already on his way to the restaurant and she wasn’t about to stand him up. No, it was just dinner, nothing had to happen. She could let him down gently at the end of the night, and everything would be fine.

She stretched up onto her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek “Thank you.”

 

…

 

She’d gotten to the restaurant late but apparently that didn’t matter, because the guy wasn’t there either.  The waitress lead her to her table and she spent almost twenty minutes sipping water and folding her napkin into origami swans.

She’d never exactly ‘dated’ before, but she knew that being late wasn’t a good start... She was just finishing making the third baby swan when she heard someone approaching. “Sorry I’m late, Love.. I.. Swan?”

Her head whipped up at the accent and she was greeted by those familiar blue eyes. “Killian?!”

“I thought you were out with the girls tonight?”

“I… They… I thought you were going for a drink with Liam?” The silence was awkward, and Killian scratched nervously at that spot behind his ear while she pulled apart the napkin in her hands. When they finally did speak, they both spoke at once. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a date?”

Emma hid her face in her hands and she heard as Killian finally sat down in the seat opposite her.

She couldn’t believe this, and Killian was apparently none the wiser either. Their friends had set them up, Mary Margaret acted all sweet and innocent but really she was an evil mastermind in disguise. Emma was just too mortified to find it funny. Why would they do this? They knew how she felt about him, and she’d even told her why she didn’t want to give things a shot, but they’d gone behind her back anyway. She pulled her bag from the back of her chair, and stood up, frustrated tears welling in her eyes. “I should go...”

He grabbed her hands so she had no choice but to stay seated. “Emma, Love. Let’s just get dinner and enjoy the night out… This doesn’t even have to be a date if you don’t want it to be.”

She avoided his eyes, biting her lip as silent tears rolled down her cheeks. “I just didn’t want to make it a  _ thing,  _ you know? That’s why I didn’t tell you, I wasn’t trying to hide it from you.” She pulled her hands out of his and hid her face in them. “Mary Margaret and Ruby set me up.”

He laughed. “Liam dropped all this on me this afternoon, convinced me it was bad form to cancel on such short notice, which come to think of it was probably part of his plan all along … and when I told him I was watching Henry for the night, he offered to take him.”

Realisation dawned, and she looked up to peer over her hands. “You were late getting here because you were dropping off Henry.”

He chuckled ruefully. “The two of you are more important than a date that I had every intention of letting down gently at the end of the night.”

She dropped her hands to the table, covering her nervous movement by playing with her paper swans. “What if you liked her?” She murmured, trying to sound casual. She wasn’t stupid, she knew that just because she’d declared him off limits, didn’t mean that the rest of the female population had the same view. She just hadn’t expected to have to deal with that thought so soon.

Killian smiled, one eyebrow raised in amusement, as if able to sense her inner turmoil. “I guess we’ll find out tonight.”

“Killian.” She scoffed. This wasn’t right, she’d tried to ignore it up till now but there was no escaping the fact that she was leading him on. She had to put a stop to it. “I can’t…”

"Give me one night, Love… Let those walls down for one night and let me show you that this… us… it’s okay… and if things really go that bad, we can go right back to the way we were.” Emma doubted things would ever go back to the way they were after tonight, even if she walked away now.

She let out a shaky breath and nodded silently.

 

…

 

It took her a while to fully relax again, she felt like she was on tenterhooks the entire time, like everyone in the restaurant was watching with eagle eyes for the first sign of a mishap. Killian chatted away, trying to put her at ease and although the thought of being on a date with her best friend never truly left her, slowly but surely the trepidation over it began to fade a little. It wasn’t that different to all the other times they’d had lunch or dinner together, either at Granny’s or at home.

Conversation started to flow freely during the main course, and while they waited on dessert Killian reached over to lace his fingers though hers, running his thumb soothingly over hers as they spoke. Her heart hammered in her chest at first, but she forced herself to calm down and eventually found that she actually rather liked the gesture.

The topic eventually turned to Henry and Emma couldn’t help but love the way his eyes lit up as they talked about her son, the soft, almost proud, voice he used as they guessed on how long it would be until he took his first steps, or what his first word, or in Killian’s opinion his next word, would be. (He’d recently begun shouting ‘Ma!” but Emma was more convinced he was attempting to mimic Killian shouting ‘Emma!’ as opposed to actually calling her ‘Mama’)

They laughed and joked, and with every moment Emma could feel herself falling for him a little bit more…

 

…

 

Killian insisted on paying for her meal, despite her protests, and she drove them home. Henry would be spending the night with Liam and Elsa, something the pair of them figured must have been part of the plan all along.

“You know.” Killian laughed as they reached their front door. “Walking you home seems a little less impressive when I have to follow you inside.” Emma grinned. “And it’s not exactly like you have a bedroom door i can walk you to either.” He mused.

She laughed, toying with her keyring but not opening the door just yet. “If it bothers you that much we could always pretend. You know, we say goodnight, I go in, you wait out here for couple of minutes.”

He chuckled stepping closer and threading his fingers through hers again. “Did you have a good time?” He asked softly. Emma watched their hands distractedly, marvelling in the ways they contrasted to her own, large against small, rough against smooth, pale against tan.

“Not bad.” She murmured. “You actually made me forget that the whole thing was a mortifying set up from people that are supposed to be my best friends.”

He hummed softly in amusement. “I think you’ll find that’s my job.” He brushed his lips to her forehead and Emma felt as if her lungs had suddenly forgotten how to function.

“Yeah.” She breathed out on a laugh, he stepped closer still, untangling their fingers and slipping his arms around her waist instead, her own lifted automatically to rest on his chest, gripping the collar of his jacket to try and cover up the way they shook.

“You asked me what I’d do if I liked my date.” He whispered against her cheek.

She swallowed thickly, absently wondering if her heart could actually physically beat out of her chest, if it couldn’t it was sure giving it a good shot. She could feel his thudding a nervous beat too and tried to comfort herself with the fact that he seemed just as anxious as she was.

He brushed his lips against the corner of her mouth, but didn’t do any more than that, just lingered in her space. He was leaving it up to her to make the first move. She wished he hadn’t, she wished he’d made the decision for her because she wasn’t sure she could anymore.

Tears rolled silently over her cheeks and as much as she tried to cover it she couldn’t hide how her breath shook. Finally he sighed and pulled back slightly, pressing another kiss to her cheek. He hugged her tightly once more and finally pulled away completely. She watched numbly as he unlocked their front door and gestured for her to head inside.

She shuffled over the threshold but he didn’t follow. “Goodnight, Emma.” His smile was reassuring but it didn’t reach his eyes, which wouldn’t quite meet hers. She reached for the door knob blindly, playing along with whatever this was that they were doing. Perhaps he wasn’t coming home tonight? Perhaps he was going to Liam’s?

“Night.” She murmured, she closed the door slowly, giving him the chance to change his mind, but he didn’t.

She leaned back against the door and tried to calm her racing heart. She sobbed, covering her mouth to try and muffle the sound, before running off, up the stairs, and to her bedroom.

He didn’t leave to go to Liam’s. She heard him let himself in about twenty minutes later and buried her face further into her pillows. What the hell were they supposed to do now? She’d tried so hard to keep things from changing, but there was no backpedaling from here, the damage had been done.

She was stuck between a rock and a hard place. If she didn’t do anything, she risked months of awkwardness, night after night of half conversations and no eye contact. If she chanced a relationship with him, she risked everything… Their friendship, her confident… They lived together… if things went wrong, would he want her to move out?

“...Emma.” She frowned, sniffing and lifting her head out from her pillows slightly “Emma, Love…” She looked up at the baby monitor on her nightstand and watched as the lights moved as he spoke. “I know you can hear me… and I know you’re crying.” She sniffed and wiped at her face with the heels of her hands. “I just want you to know, that no matter what happens, you will always be my best friend.”

She reached over and plucked the monitor off her nightstand, pulling it to her chest. “If this… us… isn’t something you want then that’s fine… but I don’t think that’s it… Please, love. Just don’t shut me out.”

She didn’t answer straight away, and It felt like hours before she managed to speak, but it could only have been minutes. “I don’t wanna lose you.”  She whispered finally.

“You won’t lose me… Emma, worst case scenario, we realise we’re not right for each other, but I’m always going to be there for you no matter what, I promise you that. I love you, and I love Henry and I can’t imagine my life without the two of you in it. ”

Her heart swelled in her chest and fresh, happy tears rolled over her cheeks. She gathered her courage and finally whispered back. “I love you, too”

There was a low chuckle from the top of the stairs that lead into her room. She looked up to find Killian leaning against the banister. “How come you can only admit how you feel over baby monitor?”

She gave a watery laugh and pushed herself to sit up against her headboard.  “I don’t know,” she sniffed.

He breathed a laugh and walked over to her bed, kicking off his shoes and sitting down beside her. “I want to give this a shot Emma, I know you’ve been hurt, but I promise you I’d never…”

“I know.” She cut him off, reaching over to take one of his hands in hers  “I know you’d never hurt me, Killian.”

“Then what?”

“I’m scared because I do want a future with you, I want that so badly that I’m terrified of messing it all up.” He leaned in closer and pressed his nose to her temple. “It’s stupid and crazy and I never thought I’d want that with someone again, but I do, and it scares the living crap outta me.”

He laughed softly. “It’s not crazy Emma. I can’t tell you what the future holds, maybe things work out, maybe they don’t, but I do know that the future’s nothing to be afraid of. All you have to do is trust me.”

Not much in life was certain, it never was, but in that moment she did know two things. The first was that she could trust Killian Jones to always stand by her side, whether that was as her friend or as it soon became apparent, something more.

She smiled softly and tilted her head up towards him bringing her lips up to his. They were soft but insistent against her own, and she melted into the kiss, everything around her falling away. She ran her hands up across his chest and over his shoulders, lifting one hand to thread her fingers though the hair at the nape of his neck as he gently coaxed her lips apart.

He was warm and his arms were strong as they pulled her closer, and after a few moments she could feel the corners of his lips turn up into a smile against her own.

It was contagious. They both laughed giddily against each others mouths and she turned to press her face against the smooth skin of his neck.

...

 

The second thing she knew for sure, was that December 6th 2002 had to be one of the unluckiest days of her life. Not in major ways, mind you, but in regards to smaller misfortunes, December 6 th was definitely up there. It was the day she decided that despite the common belief, bad things did not in fact happen in threes, they happened one after the other in the crappiest game of dominos ever. 

But December 6th had also been the day she’d met Killian Jones, and if all those crappy dominos had to fall in order for them to meet, she could say with complete certainty that she’d let them fall all over again… Hell, she’d even give them a little helping shove herself.


End file.
